


Not The Same Touch

by TheWickedWitchy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, a bit of voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWickedWitchy/pseuds/TheWickedWitchy
Summary: - 12 days of Love-mas - Day 4 - It's not the same but it will do





	Not The Same Touch

There is a distinct swirl of frustration coiling through his body, and he attempts to inhale without making too much sound, willing, _forcing_ himself to find calm in the semi-darkness of the room.

Winter had blanketed both farm and surrounding lands in a delicate coating of white, glistening snow, and none of them had voiced it out loud yet, that the serene landscape was a welcoming sight, and how both home and its residents had warmed body and soul. Even without them all speaking of it Clint knew of course, hauled plates of food into sight with a knowing grin, and seemingly reveled in the hum of various voices that seemed to become softer during the long evenings at the table.

Thor had enjoyed it all, to the fullest extent; the mornings in which the pile of omelets seemed endless and the wind gently brushed more snow onto the window stills, the exploring of the forest with the Captain and the assassins in tow, the smell and sight of it bringing forth memories of hunting in his youth. Even the somewhat quiet afternoons when television and flimsy comic books were explored by those who did not wish for more activity, his restless nature settling on the sagged couches and accepting the simple fact there was nothing that needed to be done, in this moment in time. 

It had been bliss, in the most mundane and simplest of ways, and he had found himself sensing genuine happiness. And yet, the nights had become a fraction uncomfortable, a sliver distressing with each passing day, and he huffed whilst turning on his side in the slightly too small bed, still wide awake and eyes landing on Steven’s figure across the room.

The main reason for his increasing discomfort was seemingly at rest, curved torso of the mortal regarded for a few agonizingly long moments, and once again thunderer finds himself considering, re-considering, mulling over the implications of closing the distance between them. And once again – as the night before, and the night before that – he cannot seem to move, cursing inwardly at the two separate beds and the few feet between them.

The view did not help matters, and it takes a great amount of willpower to turn away from it all, the round outlines of Steven’s shoulders, waist, ass already memorized ages ago but now too taunting to behold any longer. Imagery pairs beautifully with the countless of others that had embedded themselves in his mind; beloved hands raking over his chest, a crooked, playful smile, the shifting of muscles whenever the Captain so much as breathed.

The god’s body responds to vivid imagination as always, warming and flooding with heat, and in all fairness he had suffered days of no true contact, brief kisses and short-lived embraces not nearly enough to sate his permanent, deeply rooted hunger for the man. Even when allowed to act on it, in the confines of Steven’s apartment, the ache for him was always felt, always present, and being denied what he had learned to savor so often brought about an uneasy, unruly sense of want.

Eyes scrunch to close then, firmly at first then relaxing, and valiant efforts to lay still and chase sleep are countered by the would have, could have, options and scenes passing the god’s mind whilst hand roams over his abdomen. He had vowed to Steven they would remain civil, to uphold their status as well-behaved guests, and the mild wash of panic in the man after the first stolen kiss had been enough to keep both his thoughts and the god’s hands from straying.

Yet he craved him, deeply and utterly, and knowing such things never would pass if there was nothing done about it Thor inhales once more, fingers dipping lower to seek out what was already signaling for attention. Arousal throbbed, once, twice, as if demanding touch, and he is aware how weak it is to concede, how pitiful it truly was, being unable to resist. Then again, the skies rumbled an ominous sound after nipples harden against the sheet, every nerve protesting whilst ration attempted to argue, and a flashing image of Steven’s lips seals the fate of the sheet that is shoved away from overly warm body.

Remaining quiet would take immense effort he knew, and prolonging the act would only risk waking the other, the god’s tussling in the bed already proven to be noted by the human the night before. With a soft hum comes a first wash of relief as he allows fingers to curl around the now thick length, bottom lip firmly bitten and teeth keeping the trap on the flesh tight. This was far from the heated touch he needed, far from the sensation that only Steven could bring about, but the strokes serve their purpose for now, his hand turning slick from the pre that oozes out of cock’s head.

It was a practiced, deliberately fast tug, soon followed by another, that has mighty chest heave and leaves his other hand caressing the thick muscles there, fingers desperate to mimic familiar tugs on hard nipples. Poor substitutes, undoubtedly, but aided by images of warm, rosy lips closing around his cock still manage to have heat flare brighter in his core, prickles of pleasure travelling through the jolting shaft.   
Thumb works over sensitive skin with each stroke upward, delicious pressure building low in the heavy sac, and the miniscule squelching sound is drowned out by a small moan. Lost in the sensation there are no other thoughts, only the sensing of release rolling through his being, trickling heat replaced by waves of fire flooding the broad frame. Grasp squeezes tightly around the base of his cock, thick ropes of white splattering the trembling abdomen, and enough sense is left to keep lips trapped and breath escaping through flaring nostrils, soft huffs fading whilst splashes cease to land.

For a moment he savors the glow of bliss and tremors in his being, shaking physique coming to a rest and heart finding a steady, less thundering rhythm. The mess upon heated skin begins to cool, and the mind is quick to offer plenty concerns once the euphoria has faded completely. He should rise and clean himself, most likely find something to drink as well, find a way to ward of the mild shame and most certainly do it all without a single sound. A difficult task under these circumstances, and he braves the darkness with a fluttering opening of eyes and languid, groaning shift of his body.

Now seated on the edge of the bed untainted hand rakes through unruly locks, and a satisfied smirk almost forms before the creation of it is halted by Steve's wide eyes meeting the Asgardian's.

There is still a wash of color tinting the god's cheeks, and the hue deepens a fraction when their gazes rest upon each other, the human's features only slightly distinguishable in the semi-darkness. Thor awaits a reprimand of sorts, visibly braces himself for it, yet nothing is spoken by the other, Steven's mouth resting slightly agape and the ocean blue in his eyes reduced to circlets by wide pupils.

Were they in any other place Thor could image several acts he wished to perform now, some more playful than others, yet now he finds himself smiling sheepishly, almost apologetic, as he rises to his feet. The movement has come slip and threatening to fall, and the walk towards the bathroom is somewhat rushed, mind slightly hazed still and limbs unsteady. He dares not look in the mirror, nor does he dare think about tomorrow and their interactions, until a soft calling of his name reaches him, casting away concerns and beckoning him to return.

**Author's Note:**

> ( based on the prompt list from the folks at http://smut-101.tumblr.com )  
> written for the husbando in the run towards his beeday :3


End file.
